The Conversationalist's Dilemma
by katmd
Summary: Hermione Granger finds herself in a position inopportune for conversation while at a wedding reception. Short, fluffy one shot.


Disclaimer: The characters, settings, etc. of the Harry Potter series are not mine. I just play with them.

Hermione Granger was not yet certain why Ginny Weasley had decided that it would be wise to place her at this particular table for the wedding reception, but she supposed she would just have to make the best of it.

It wasn't going to be easy. Goodness, no. It was going to be incredibly difficult. With Severus Snape seated on her right, glowering down at the table cloth instead of even attempting to make conversation, and one of Draco Malfoy's cousins on her left, Hermione decided that the chances of her enjoying a nice conversation during the reception were probably lost. The people across the table were worthless for conversation, as well, as they were all Purebloods. The sort of Purebloods who would never condescend to holding a conversation with a Muggle born like her.

It seems Draco and Ginny had managed to seat her at the one table in the entirety of their wedding reception where she would be the least welcome.

The beginning of the reception passed quickly. The best man, Harry Potter, made his speech. Arthur Weasley toasted the happy couple. Draco and Ginny beamed at everyone present and before she knew it, Hermione was being served her soup and her champagne flute was being filled for a second time.

Hermione turned her head slightly to look at Snape and saw that he was quietly slurping his soup and keeping his head down (both figuratively and literally). She turned to look at Draco's cousin, hoping that he might be more receptive to conversation, and saw that he was engaged with the person on his left.

Sighing loudly, Hermione turned back to her soup. It was really quite good soup, a nice vegetable variety. Maybe if she just ate her meal and drank her champagne she would eventually be rescued by Ron or Harry for dancing. Maybe if she just kept quiet and ate her dinner like a good girl...

"Miss Granger," Snape said suddenly on her right, "would you be so kind as to pass me the salt?"

"Oh, certainly, Professor," Hermione said, grabbing the salt shaker from her left and passing it to Snape. "Do you like the soup?" she asked, hoping that he might begin a conversation with her.

He grunted in response as he poured what looked to Hermione to be almost a tablespoon of salt into the bowl of liquid. Hermione smiled. "I'll assume by your actions that you aren't enjoying it, then."

He set the salt shaker down on the table in front of him with a loud clunk. "Why would you assume that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, you did almost pour the entire shaker of salt into your soup, Professor. The spicing of it must be less than satisfactory, at least."

He grunted again.

"So," Hermione continued, refusing to let go of the opportunity for conversation. "Are you having a nice summer, Professor?"

He shrugged as he took another slurp of his soup. "As nice as they ever are, Miss Granger."

"That's good," Hermione replied. "And how were your students this past year? Is the dunderhead population depleting as the generation passes through?"

Snape gave a small snort of laughter as he finished off his soup. "No."

"Oh," said Hermione, "that is too bad. I would have hoped that teaching might have become a slightly less arduous task for you, Professor, as time went on. Especially now that Harry Potter is out of your hair," she finished, laughing softly.

"How long has it been since you graduated from Hogwarts, Miss Granger?" Snape asked as he drank his entire flute of champagne in one, long sip.

"Erm, seven years, I think," Hermione said.

"Seven years? That would make you almost twenty five years old. And even now, Miss Granger," Snape said, sneering at her, "you are yet to be able to identify when one is unwilling to speak to you. You just prattle on and on, don't you, until someone tells you to shut up. I must say that you are the single most obnoxious girl I have ever had the good luck to meet."

Hermione felt her mouth drop open.

"Well, well," Snape said, his sneer growing as he saw this, "I suppose I have finally found an effective way to silence you."

Hermione barely noticed the waiters taking away her soup, serving her entree, and topping off her champagne. "You...you bastard!"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You...you...just because you're the most anti-social, disagreeable, rude man on the planet does not give you the right to insult me, Professor Snape! It seems like you've been berating me and cutting me down all of my life, and I have had enough of it, sir. Now, you will be civil to me, or...or I will do something just _awful_ to you."

"Awful?" he echoed. "What on earth could you do that I might possibly consider awful, Miss Granger?"

And though later she could never understand why, Hermione Granger leaned over in her seat and kissed Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, full on the lips.

"That," she said when she was finished, and standing from her seat, fled to the ladies' room.

Hermione stood before the vanity in the ladies' room and stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing hard; by all appearances, she could have just run a kilometer. Instead, she'd just finished kissing the most wretched man she'd ever met.

Hermione watched as two young women scurried into the bathroom and sidled up next to her in front of the vanity. They were very pretty girls with lovely blonde hair that resembled Draco's. She imagined they were two of the seemingly endless number of Malfoy cousins.

"Hello," the blonde with green eyes said to her, her voice thick with an accent that sounded to French to Hermione. "Are you all right? You look ill."

"I'm fine, thank you," Hermione said giving her a small smile.

"Oh, if…" the girl began speaking again, but stopped when the door to the bathroom opened and Severus Snape stalked in.

"I refuse to stand outside and wait for you any longer, Miss Granger," he whispered in a tone that sounded deadly to Hermione and caused her cheeks to flush once again.

Almost immediately the blonde girls started giggling. "Oh, Oncle Severus!" the blonde with the brown eyes said in an accented and lilting voice. "Why are you in the girls' bathroom?!"

"Ah, Susette and Bernadette. Still joined at the hip, I see" he said, giving the two blonde girls a terrible smirk Hermione supposed he thought looked friendly, "I've come to speak with Miss Granger." He gestured to where Hermione stood staring at him. "So, if you girls would leave us to it…"

They giggled again, but took the hint and fled from the bathroom, leaving Hermione alone with Snape. She almost called after them to stay, but supposed it would be all right if they didn't. They had already seen her with Snape. So when he murdered her, they would be able to testify that he was the last person they saw her with. But there was the problem of them calling him Uncle…

"Uncle Severus?" Hermione said aloud, frowning. "You're their Uncle?"

"No, Miss Granger," he said, "I am their cousin, many times removed. In Pureblood society, however, all sorts of relations are thrown together for various functions. Eventually, everyone over the age of thirty is referred to by those under the age of thirty as auntie or uncle."

"Or Oncle, if you're French," Hermione added, smiling.

"Indeed," he replied, smirking at her.

They were silent for a moment before Hermione cleared her throat. "So are you going to kill me now?"

"Why on earth would you ask me such a question, Miss Granger?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Hermione shrugged, feeling her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red. "I, well, I…that is to say…" she trailed off and gave a huff of exasperation. "You were there, Professor, you know bloody well what happened."

"Yes, about that, Miss Granger. I just wanted to say," Snape paused to give her the same terrible smirk he had given the blonde girls, "touché."

Hermione laughed, surprised at his response and relieved he was not incredibly angry. "Well, I do try, Professor."

"Indeed," he replied, continuing to give her that terrible smirk. "Look, the band has started playing, so I was wondering," he paused to gulp, and Hermione was quite pleased to see the ever cool and collected Potions Master looking decidedly uncomfortable, "would you like to dance?"

Hermione grinned up at the man before her. "Why, Professor, I would absolutely love to."

Snape gave his terrible smirk again and offered Hermione his arm. She gladly took it, and allowed him to lead her out of the bathroom and back to the party.


End file.
